


If You're Looking For Baby Names

by not_a_baby_unicorn



Series: Johnlock One-Shots and Other Mythical Beasts [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: At least the baby's cute, Baby Names, But they'll never admit it, F/M, Fluff, John and Sherlock are so in love, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, OFC- Does a canon baby count as an OC?, POV John Watson, Pining, Strange names, Which makes us all sad, oh my gods, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_baby_unicorn/pseuds/not_a_baby_unicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're an idiot." He deadpans, his own expression softening slightly as Flo catches his finger in her little chubby fist, complete with slobbery biscuit. Sherlock grimaces and frees his pinky from her grip, wiping it on one of my jumpers before I get to protest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You're Looking For Baby Names

"What do I do with her?"

Sherlock is holding Florence at an arm's length, looking thoroughly disgusted at the baby. My smile stretches into a grin as she gurgles and Sherlock freaks out, repeating the question in a slightly higher pitch.

" _What do I do with her?!_ " 

"You're the genius, you tell me." I say, going all doe-eyed as my daughter coos again. Sherlock looks around and places her in her cot gingerly.

"You're an idiot." He deadpans, his own expression softening slightly as Flo catches his finger in her little chubby fist, complete with slobbery biscuit. Sherlock grimaces and frees his pinky from her grip, wiping it on one of my jumpers before I get to protest.

"Oh really? You still don't know the order of the solar system. Soon little Florence will know more than you."

"Shut up." He's smiling at me, joking around, but his eyes are sad. I cast my own eyes to the ground, and suddenly I'm stumbling through a sentence. Call it thinking aloud.

"I never told you how much you mean to me."

His head whips up from examining one of Flo's toys. "What?"

I panic. I laugh, but it's forced. "Just... You know. As a friend."

As a friend? Really, John? I'm about ready to shoot myself.

We've killed for each other. I nearly died for him; He died for me. Friends are there for you- friends don't necessarily sacrifice everything they have for you. And that's what we did. We laid out our lives in front of each other and said: Take it, take what you want. It would be a pleasure to have you ruin me. An honor to die in your arms.

At least, that's how it felt for me.

He sucks in a breath and goes still. Florence gurgles, the only content person in the room.

"I- I might say the same to you, John. I cannot imagine a life without you being there." He furrows his brow. "It loses on it's quintessential meaning."

I clear my throat in a short acknowledgement, and he turns back to entertaining himself with the foam puzzle pieces. I'm screaming internally.

Like most people, I realized my mistake too late. My mistake of marrying Mary Morstan (Now Watson, I remind myself. Always Watson). I close my eyes and open them again. 

"Right. Should we get our little Sibelius bathed?"

I say it more towards Florence, but Sherlock looks on from the corner of his eye, mouthing the word 'our'. He then frowns.

"Her name is Florence, unless you've changed it in the last ten days. Highly unlikely, taking that Mary chose it and you've been referring to her per Flo or Florence the whole time I've been here. Why Sibelius?"

I smile bitterly. "Florence was Mary's choice, yes. I got her middle name." Flo giggles as I lift her up and present her to Sherlock. "Sherlock," I say, "Meet Florence Sibelius Wolfgang. Or, in short, Florence Watson."

He looks at me quizzically. "I'm sure even you know they're-"

"Yes, yes, I know they're the names of famous violinists. Call it an acknowledgment to your generous offer of lending your name to us."

"Oh. Thank you."

We continue to stare at each other. I break eye contact first, using my firstborn as an excuse to turn away from his intoxicating gaze.

"Well, now that you've met, I don't think she'll object if we give her a bath."

She makes a noise between a squeal and a shout. Sherlock grimaces again, but I just laugh and thrust her towards him, picking up rubber duckies as I go.

"Bathroom?"

"Bathroom." I confirm as we make a wobbly beeline upstairs, dropping bath toys as we go. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This work was written yet again in the haze of the setting sun and rising moon i.e. it's unbeta'd and written suddenly.  
> Kudos and comments are pearls in the ocean of life!


End file.
